Memento Mori
by Intrigued
Summary: The cliché; what happened after Order 13: Hellfire?


This story takes place during and after Order 13: Hellfire, and does spoil a whole lot. You've been warned.  
  
Written under the influence of both the Hellsing OSTs, Garbage, Rammstein and Malice Mizer. Again, you've been warned. ^^ The beginning was written fully awake, the end of the chapter nearly sleeping. Explains a whole lot.  
  
C & C, R & R for more chapters. What's the point in writing if no one is reading, anyway?  
  
Hellsing is (C) Gonzo and the like (no, I don't remember the name of the creator of Hellsing from the top of my head. So sue me.), this story is (C) me, myself and I. If you wish to use it, you'll have to ask for my permission and promise not to alter it. My e-mail address is intrigued@as-if.com  
  
Will turn into a violent fic later on, hence the PG-13 (darn FF.net for not allowing NC-17, ARRR!)  
  
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Memento Mori  
  
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Sir Integral Wingates Hellsing was a person that people rarely associated the word 'foolish' with; not if they wanted to live to see the next day, anyway; but even she herself admitted that trying to smoke a cigar without possessing a lighter was a foolish thing to try. Naturally, she was stripped of such luxuries as fire-making tools when she was shoved into the rotting cupboard of a cell a few hours earlier, yet they had allowed her to keep the three full tins of Hendi Winzerman's Small Cigars that Walter had thoughtfully packed for her. "A new kind of torture method", she chuckled, sitting down on the rock hard mattress with the unlit cigar in mouth, slightly biting the end to get at least some kind of taste in her dry mouth. She'd tried to eat the food provided for her, but the elasticity and the lack of taste of the 'steak' on the dirty plate had reminded her of a rubber chicken. That made sure she lost her appetite, not that she was very hungry to begin with. Her thirst forgot its existance with the first gulp of the watered-down wine, and she decided that she would rather starve to death than eat the plastic that they tried to shove down her throat.  
  
The all-too-familiar sound of a heavy coat shuffling against the floor pulled Integra back into a fully conscious state, but she didn't lift her head to greet her guest. Alucard wasn't big on manners or courtesy anyway, so the gesture would have gone unnoticed in any case. And at the moment, the last thing she wanted to see was his smug grin that seemed to be a permanent fixture on his mocking face.  
  
With the corner of her eye, she saw a gloved hand picking up the glass of wine and Alucard took a few steps in her general direction.  
  
"Integra," the rich voice of her servant echoed off the walls, "my master."  
  
She turned her head towards him, but didn't lift her eyes to meet his. The next words that he spoke didn't come as a surprise to her.  
  
"Your orders?"  
  
Trying to decipher whether or not the vampire was about to mock her in his usual way, she didn't reply. Not really in the mood for bickering, she just continued to stare at the glass in his hand, nearly flinching when his grasp on it suddenly tightened and the glass shattered, the wine oozing through his fingers, mixed with his thick blood. Without even blinking, he chuckled, letting the blood and wine drip to the floor. The conversation they'd had earlier about him making her a vampire flashed into her mind, and she had little doubt that Alucard had everything to do with the flashback.  
  
His grin widened as he growled, "It's up to you."  
  
She responded with an icy smile. Standing up to face the servant; or the eternal pest, depending on whom you ask; of the Hellsing bloodline, the smile faded from her face as she spat, "I'd find a pinworm infection more enjoyable."  
  
Erupting into laughter that most people would have found menacing, the vampire opened his fist, the cuts in his palm vanishing, leaving his glove torn and bloody. His eyes followed the tall form of his master as she strode past him, stopping below the pathetic excuse of a window. Its location near the roof ensured that one couldn't see through it, and it never provided enough light into the cell, but the early rays of the morning sun hitting the cobwebbed, dusty corners of the room would slowly drive a lesser prisoner mad with the desire for freedom.  
  
"Charming," he chuckled, straightening the brim of his hat before turning to face her fully, "As always. Like a snake, spitting your venom at anyone getting too close, but you should know that your venom doesn't affect me," he took a step forward and grinned widely, baring his fangs, as his eyes came in contact with hers again, "My Master."  
  
Knowing he was pushing his boundaries, but seeing nothing that Integra could use as a weapon; not that she could really hurt him, but pulling miscellaneous cutlery out of his flesh wasn't his favorite pastime; he moved towards her until he was pinning her against the wall, grinning at the memory of their first meeting, "Though the thought of being bitten and then swallowed whole by a creature like you does have its own appeal..."  
  
Integra's face betrayed nothing as she moved closer to him, her mouth nearly touching his ear, "I don't like the taste of maggots." Shoving him out of her way, she marched over to the slab working as her dining table and hissed, "Leave, Alucard. I've had enough for one day."  
  
Again, the vampire's laughter invaded her senses and he bowed deeply, "As you wish, My Master. I will be back to entertain you tomorrow night, then."  
  
Before she could reply, his form vanished from her sight and after a few minutes of wondering if he was really gone or if he'd just morphed into his mist form, she sat on her bed, sighing.  
  
"Oh, the joy." 


End file.
